Uncovering You 10: The Finale (28 page)

When the doctor leaves, I turn on Jeremy again. “So?” I demand. “What is it?”

I only realize now how successful my attempt at warding off associations with being underground was. I haven’t thought of it once.

“Paul’s dead,” Jeremy says simply.

“What?” I stagger back. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I grasp for something to hold on to. Finding nothing, I stumble to the nearest wall.

Jeremy makes no move to comfort me.

“Dead?” I whisper. “What? How?”

“He killed himself by jumping off the cliffs behind my mansion in San Jose,” Jeremy says. Not a single shred of emotion enters his voice.

“When?” I repeat.

“Three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks!” I gasp. I bring both hands up to cover my mouth. “Three
weeks
, Jeremy? Three weeks, and I’m only finding out
now
? You’re only telling me
now
?”

“I discussed it with my brother. We both agreed. It was too soon. We would risk disrupting your equilibrium.”

“
He’s
in on it, too?” I hiss. “Is that why you told him to leave the room?”

“You need only one lightning rod for your anger,” Jeremy informs me. “That would be me.”

“Anger,” I repeat. “Anger. Anger! You think I’m
angry
? I’m fucking furious!”

“I did it solely for you,” he tells me. “For your benefit—and for your recovery. Nothing else.”

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?” I roar.

“I had every intention of telling you…in time,” Jeremy says. “Once we deemed you ready.”

“Oh, once
you
deemed me ready. Is that it?” I scream. “Gee, thanks, Jeremy! That makes me feel so much better.” I wave my engagement ring in his face. “What about this, huh, Jeremy? What about truth? What about honesty? What about all those things you promised?”

I’m starting to breathe really, really hard. I’m close to hyperventilating.

Jeremy makes no attempt to calm me.

“I did not lie,” he tells me in a voice as cold as ice and sharp as a freshly forged sword. “Did you ask me if your father was alive? No, you did not. Did you ask me how he was doing? No, you did not.”

“I assumed…” I begin.

Jeremy cuts me off without mercy. “And that’s your biggest flaw. You
assumed
, Lilly, without asking for confirmation. Remember all the times I ensured that I got
verbal confirmation
from you?” He stresses the words. “Why do you think that is? I did it to avoid situations exactly like this, were our roles reversed!”

“Oh, so that’s what this is supposed to be, then?” I demand. “Some type of sick, twisted lesson for me?”

“I did not say…”

“Then what else?” I explode. “What else, Jeremy? Huh? Tell me. Tell me what else!”

He looks at me. For a long moment, he does not speak. Then he says, with all the dispassionate distance he’d use to address a street beggar, “You’re becoming hysterical.”

I am so pissed at him, so caught up in all the wrong emotions of the moment that I throw my head back and scream. Then I clutch at my hair like a mad woman, and pull.

The strands come away.

There’s no pain in my scalp. In fact, I feel nothing. For a moment, I just stare at the strands between my fingers, held out in front of me. A dull sort of question forms in the back of my mind.

If I pulled my hair out, why didn’t I feel pain
?

And then the realization comes crashing into me. It’s not my hair. My hair is gone. My hair had been shaved away by Esteban and Hugh and Rose…

And suddenly I’m right there again. I’m back underground, in that awful cell, surrounded by Esteban and his thugs, Big Man, Leader, the rapist…

I stare around the room, not seeing anything, not seeing anybody but Esteban, Big Man, and Leader. Leader, here to rape me…

Oh God!

I give a horrible wail of despair and crumble to my knees. I rock back and forth, back and forth, running my hands over my head, again and again and again.

I feel hair. Is this a fever dream? No! I’m still here. This is still reality…

I give another mournful cry and start to sob, all the while rocking faster, faster, faster…

Somebody runs up to me. Dr. Telfair, I think, though why that name comes to mind I cannot say. He yells,
“What the fuck did you do
?” at someone else, not at me, not at me…

I bite my lips and start to quiver, so confused, so utterly terrified. I have hair. But I cannot feel it. Does that mean this is real? Does that mean this is fake?

I tear at the strands, trying with all my might to rip it off, trying with all my might to determine whether this is real or all imagined…

Dr. Telfair holds me by the shoulders. “Shush, shush,” he coos. I keep rocking. Another pair of hands takes hold of my arms and stops me from ripping at my hair. Strong hands. Big hands. Thick hands. Sure hands…

Big Man’s hands?

I wail once more and jerk away. My vision is spinning. There are two people before me. Two men. Two—

Jeremy
. And Dr. Telfair. Twins. They’re twins!

And I’m here, underground with them, in a…

A laboratory!

The panic ebbs away. I can see clearly once more.

“What—what happened?” I stammer. The objects above me all come into view. As do the two brothers.

Neither looks at all pleased.

“Yes, Jeremy,” Dr. Telfair says. “Please. Tell us what happened.” He makes a derisive sound and helps me to my feet. I stagger up, clinging onto his arm for support.

Jeremy remains closed jawed and silent. He glares at me with something very close to loathing in his eyes.

Dr. Telfair leads me away. I sit on a small bench by one cold, rocky, wall.

He leans down and looks at me. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I say. I feel weak and all shaky. But the worst has already passed.

I brush the hair out of my eyes. Halfway through the motion, I stop and realize what I’m doing. I feel the wig’s strands—

“Yes, Lilly, this is all real,” Dr. Telfair informs me gently. Jeremy is brooding somewhere in the background. “You’re safe from any further distresses…” He glances over his shoulder at his brother, “…for now.”

Jeremy starts to approach. Dr. Telfair points at finger at him. “Don’t come any closer.”

“I’ll do whatever I goddamn please,” Jeremy growls.

Dr. Telfair rises and faces him directly. “What did you just say?” he challenges. He’s got the same determined look that Jeremy often wears. I know if they start arguing, it’ll be something like an immoveable object being hit by an unstoppable force. The only outcome is sheer calamity.

I have to jump in to give one of them an edge.

So I take a quick, deep breath, try to steady my nerves, and come up beside my doctor. Good thing I have heaps practice disguising my internal turmoil with an external mask.

“Jeremy, I want to be alone with your brother,” I say. “At least
he
did not hide any vital information from me.”

But not like he didn’t agree to it,
a voice reminds me.

Whatever. My fury is directed at Jeremy only. If I get mad at Dr. Telfair as well, then I’ll truly be alone.

Besides…I have a sneaking suspicion that the true reason for the anger was that I am too much of a coward to properly mourn my father’s death.

Jeremy stops short. He works his jaw. Clenching both fists.

Then, without another word, he promptly turns on his heel and leaves.

His footsteps echo all the way up the long, narrow stairs.

Dr. Telfair looks at me. “That was a close call.” He adjusts his glasses. “How do you feel?”

“Uncertain,” I admit. Thank God I told Dr. Telfair about my anchor. Otherwise, he’d have no way of understanding what I mean. “I thought…” I swallow. “I thought the injections are supposed to protect my mind.”

“They do that, yes,” he tells me. “But like I said before, the key to their efficiency is your own mental strength. They shield you from the worst. The rest still is, and always has been, up to you.”

“I almost fell into the hole,” I whisper.

“But you didn’t.” He clasps my shoulders. “You pulled yourself back. I’m proud of you for that, Lilly.”

“How much will that prize get me?” I mutter solemnly. “If I can’t trust myself to be safe, even with the injections…”

“No,” Dr. Telfair cuts in. “You’re not to doubt yourself, Lilly. I won’t allow it. The fault lies not with you but with my brother. I heard your raised voices and rushed back. I caught only the tail end of the argument. Tell me. What happened?”

“Jeremy… Jeremy told me about my father.”

“Oh.” For a split second, Dr. Telfair looks crestfallen, “I am sorry about that, Lilly. I am equally at fault. You see, I…”

“I know,” I say. “I know, and I don’t blame you. I don’t blame Jeremy either, for concealing the fact from me. I was angry…I got so angry, all because…”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Telfair shakes his head. “You don’t need to explain anything, Lilly. I understand.”

“Do you?” I ask. “Do you understand how weak I feel? How…frightened?”

He nods. “I can’t feel those things for you, Lilly. But I understand.”

“How can you?” I whisper.

He exhales and takes off his glasses. He rubs the bridge of his nose just the way I’ve seen Jeremy do. I get an uncanny, discomfiting feeling of déjà vu.

“I understand, Lilly, because of the patients I’ve cared for previously. But more than that, I understand because I’ve seen the films.”

“Films? What films?”

“Recordings of everything that’s been done to you,” he says. “They were removed from Esteban’s manor following your rescue.”

I swallow and look away.

“Don’t be ashamed,” he reassures me.

“I… I thought everything to do with that time had already been destroyed. It seemed so final. Now, knowing there are tapes…”

“I wouldn’t let that bother you,” Dr. Telfair says. “How about some better news for a change of pace? Remember what I brought you here for?”

“Oh yeah,” I smile weakly. “You made some discovery or other.”

He smirks. “That’s putting it lightly.”

“Well, I remember how ecstatic you were about it,” I say feeling my mood lifting. “What is it? What made you so excited?”

“It’s about you, Lilly,” he says. He beckons me to a computer, which is hooked up to a huge projection screen. “Come. Take a look.”

He types his password in to get past the screen lock. “Would you like to invite Jeremy in?” he asks. I shake my head. “Not yet. You can tell me first.”

“Okay,” Dr. Telfair smiles. He pulls up a 3D model of a red blood cell. “Do you know what this is?”

I’ve seen the movies. “I’ve done basic high school biology,” I quip.

“But,” Dr. Telfair holds up a finger. “First, look at this.” One click of his mouse takes the camera into the cell, to the tightly-bound DNA strand. Dr. Telfair taps a large, heavy white machine that reminds me of an oversized refrigerator with one hand. “Thanks to this baby, I’ve been able to make out your personal DNA structure. Not in full, of course. That would take ridiculous amounts of processing power. But I’ve discovered the relevant, pertinent parts, at least. That’s what this machine has been doing for the past two months.”

“Okay…” I say, somewhat confused.

“But more importantly,” Dr. Telfair continues, growing really energetic now, “It’s been comparing your suitability for certain drug candidates. I’ve been working, all the time, on formulating a personalized treatment plan for you. Something designed just for you. Something that would work only with your body, your DNA.”

“You mean, past the injections?” I ask.

Dr. Telfair waves mention of the injections away. “The drug you’re currently taking is almost like using a blacksmith’s hammer to force a tiny loose screw. It’s blunt and imprecise. It is why there are side effects. It’s also why its efficiency will wear off in the future. To further the analogy, it’s like the screw keeps coming out. Every time it does—every time I give you an injection—it’s us taking the hammer to it again.” Dr. Telfair slams a fist into his palm with such force that I jump. “Bam! Just like that. The screw is back in, but it’s only a temporary fix. And, the surrounding area? All that span of space around the screw that bears the force of the blow? It just gets weaker and weaker and weaker, until, in the end, the mortar simply won’t allow the structure to hold the screw anymore. The hammer does excessive damage every time.

“But,” he continues, his speech speeding faster by the second, “what we really need in this case—what we need above all—is a simple screwdriver.

“A simple screwdriver. Any would do. Right? Go to the hardware store and pick one up. They’re a dime a dozen. All readily available. Right?”

I nod, hesitatingly.

“Wrong,” says Dr. Telfair triumphantly. “The screwdriver represents the plethora of drugs on the market…all the ones in production today by the big pharmaceuticals. But the thing is, Lilly: The screw…does not have an ordinary head. The threading is unique. It’s unique only to you. So an ordinary screwdriver will not do.

“That’s what I’ve been doing, Lilly, in all my free time, in all my experiments. I’ve been trying to create the screwdriver that will forever fix the problem of the loose screw. Fix it…
permanently
.”

He turns to me, then, and looks at me with an intensity I’ve only ever seen matched by Jeremy Stonehart during sex.

“And today? This morning, while you were gone?” A smile begins to curl his lips. “I think I did it.”

My eyes widen. “A permanent fix?” I marvel. “Why didn’t you tell me
this
was what you were doing before?”

“I did not want to get your hopes up in case it never came to fruition. This was never a sure thing. But today, Lilly? Today, I think I have uncovered the key that will cleanse you of my father’s poison—for good.”

Chapter Thirty-Six